


Closet Case

by KaylaToriWolf



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Happy Valentine’s Day I guess??, Harry and Draco make out in a closet at a party, Harry is blindfolded, M/M, Party Games, eighth year, house unity parties, overused tropes, wowie such originality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 21:29:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13690167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaylaToriWolf/pseuds/KaylaToriWolf
Summary: In which they both come out of the closet together. So to speak.





	Closet Case

**Author's Note:**

> I’ll admit this has been sitting in my notes since like November. I just never felt like posting it but hey, it’s Valentines Day, so why the fuck not. I’ll probably come back and edit this sometime tbh since I’m not 100% happy with it. But anyways, enjoy? I guess?

He’s going to murder Parkinson when he gets out of this mess. 

There he was just innocently standing by the food table at the inter house party trying (and failing miserably) to not stare at a certain blond Slytherin in much too tight trousers when Pansy Parkinson of all people had dragged him towards a circle of people saying something about stopping being such a wet blanket and joining in on some “inter house unity exercises” as she called them. Which really just turned out to be a bunch of Muggle party games. 

A few shots of Firewhiskey later and he had miraculously made it through ‘I Have Never’ and ‘Truth or Dare’ without much incident on his part. The same couldn’t be said for the others however. Mostly Seamus giving Blaise a surprisingly good lap dance, Ron having to perform a strip tease though thankfully leaving on his pants, and Malfoy having to kiss Goyle after which Malfoy had claimed he “wasn’t drunk enough for this shit” and had left to presumably get another drink for himself. Harry had laughed at that statement, having noticed earlier that he was the only bloke to stick to bottled Butterbeer so it was his own damn fault. But he hadn’t called him out for it. Something told Harry he had some reason for doing it and had probably hoped no one would notice. 

But then Pansy decided they should play a different game. After explaining how the new game worked lots of people seemed to be on board and so started before Harry could get himself out of it. The basic idea was that she would put everyone’s name into a hat that would magically pick two people with the most chemistry and then they would be given ten minutes to do ‘whatever they want’ in a closet. The catch was that the first person was blindfolded and thus did not know the identity of their person. And the only way the blindfold can be taken off is at the end of the ten minutes or if the second person takes it off for them during the ten minutes. 

And who just had to be the first person picked but none other than Harry Potter himself. Before he knew it he had been blindfolded – glasses hastily shoved in Ron and Hermione’s general direction – and pushed into a closet. 

Harry snaps out of his silent brooding when he hears uproarious laughter outside the door. He is unable to pick up any words though and before he knows it the closet door is opening then closing gently. 

He feels the unknown person approach his spot on the floor followed by the rustling of clothes as they sit down. 

“I don’t suppose you’ll tell me who you are?” Harry says into the tense silence. 

The person chuckles. “Now where’s the fun in that?”

It’s a boy. 

Harry feels a strange sense of relief, some of the tension in his body slowly beginning to ebb away. 

“I’ll admit, I expected you to be a little more surprised that the person you apparently have the most chemistry with is a guy,” The boy says, seemingly amused. 

“You don’t seem to be all that surprised yourself,” Harry says back. 

“No, I suppose not.” The boy laughs again. “Not when I’ve spent the last four years pining after the one idiot boy I knew I could never have.”

“Four years? Must be pretty special.”

“Yeah, you could say that.”

Harry finds his senses suddenly filled with the scent of lemons - an infuriatingly familiar smell he can’t quite pinpoint where he knows it from - as the boy seems to inch closer. Harry’s chest clenches when he realizes just how vulnerable he is, blind folded in a closet with someone he’s not sure of who they are. His tension must show more than he thought because the boy lays a tentative hand on his shoulder. 

“Hey, don’t worry, I’m not going to do anything you’re not comfortable with. I’m not that much of an arse.” The boy says, tone implying a self-deprecating smile has made its way onto his face. 

“No it’s- you’re fine. Really I - “ Harry cuts himself off. Words having failed him rather spectacularly, he decides to simply show him. Using some of that Gryffindor courage, Harry takes the boys hand from his shoulder and tugs the boy towards him. “You’re fine, honestly. I just wish you’d tell me who you are.”

“You wouldn’t like the answer, believe me,” The boy mutters, voice tinged with bitter sadness. 

“Maybe you should let me be the judge of that,” Harry says, tugging him forward again. The boy remains silent as he seems to consider it. He stays quiet though, long enough that Harry starts to feel bad for how much of a struggle this seems to be for him. “Hey, if it’s that big of a deal to you, you don’t have to tell me.”

“Are you sure?” The boy asks, sounding slightly guilty. 

“Yes.” 

“Okay.”

The boy seems to hesitate a moment longer before threading a hand through Harry’s hair. Harry’s eyes flutter closed as long elegant fingers start running through his hair. It’s such a simple gesture but something about how gentle he is has Harry’s stomach doing somersaults. He nearly misses the boy say a quiet “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.” with a light laugh before the hand in his hair guides their mouths closer together until they’re mere centimetres apart. 

Before Harry can think too hard about it he’s closing the distance between them. The hand in his hair tightens slightly, sending tingles like electricity through his body, and finally he is kissing the mysterious man. It’s a gentle kiss filled with hesitance and absolute care. Almost as if the boy is scared he might break or run away. It’s a little awkward given Harry’s lack of sight but it still manages to steal his breath away. 

The boy pulls back though to Harry’s confusion. 

“Something wrong?”

“I just can’t help feeling like I’m taking advantage of you somehow,” The boy says quietly. 

Trust the boy to be too noble for his own good. You’d think he was a Gryffindor, though as far as Harry knows, he could be. Harry rolls his eyes, not that he’d be able to see it anyway. He appreciates it, really, but honestly. Apparently saying “Yes.” And initiating the kiss wasn’t being blunt enough.

“I’ve said yes haven’t I?”

“Well, yes, but - “

“Then kiss me like I know you want to, you numpty,” Harry says with a light laugh. He almost feels bad for the considerate boy. “If I’m going to be blindfolded and shoved into a closet with a boy I apparently have the most chemistry with, the least he could do is snog me like he means it.” 

“Okay,” The boy says, returning the laugh and seeming to relax. 

The boy captures his lips with his own this time, though with a little more confidence. It’s still gentle however, like he wants to savour every moment, and Harry is more than happy to let him. 

It’s odd, kissing someone while unable to see. It makes every slight feeling heightened. Every touch like fire. Searing through his veins and warming his body like a shot of Firewhiskey. 

Wanting to encourage the boy, Harry gently cups his cheek, running his thumb along sharp cheekbones and smooth skin. Shifting the angle of his head slightly, Harry slides his tongue along the boy’s bottom lip as if asking for permission. This seems to catch the boy off guard, if his tiny gasp is anything to go by. Harry takes the opportunity to slip his tongue inside the boys slightly open mouth. 

He’s not sure what he expected him to taste like but he definitely didn’t expect it to be so warm and sweet, almost like–

Harry’s brain short circuits. 

Almost like Butterbeer. 

But no, it couldn’t be, could it? It can’t be him, he hates me, right? I’m sure plenty of other people have drank Butterbeer tonight. It’s just a coincidence! Harry’s head tries to reason. But it makes complete sense. The hesitance, the familiarity of the citrus smell, the impossibly sharp cheekbones, the voice he knew he recognized but couldn’t quite place, his refusal to reveal his identity. 

Merlin, he was kissing Malfoy. 

Malfoy, who has apparently been pining after him for four fucking years. Who Harry had been trying not to stare at the entire night (key word trying). The boy who could always get his attention and get under his skin like no one else can. The boy he used to hate now here, kissing him in a closet like he’s something to be cherished. 

He feels like a complete idiot for not realizing it sooner. 

His thoughts are interrupted by the boy– no Malfoy’s tongue reciprocating the timid exploration. And suddenly, Harry has the overwhelming urge to protect him, to hold him close and make him his. 

And so he does. 

Now that he knows exactly who he’s with, he doesn’t even hesitate before pulling him fully onto his lap so that Malfoy’s legs are on either side of his hips. They break apart momentarily to settle into a more comfortable position then Malfoy is kissing him again like his life depends on it. Harry can’t help the groan that escapes his lips, lifting a hand up to grasp a handful of platinum blond hair. 

He’d fantasized about being the one to mess up his flawless hair thousands of times but fantasies did the softness of his hair absolutely no justice. It feels like silk through his fingers. Malfoy sighs at the feeling and Harry wishes he could see him even more now. He wants to watch Malfoy slowly come undone, knowing that he’s the cause of it and no one else. 

He vaguely becomes aware of something hard pressing against his stomach which only serves to increase the tightness in his own pants. Harry, caught off guard by the small moan the realization elicits from Malfoy, loses his balance; sending them both toppling to the ground. Thankfully, the hand in his hair keeps his head from hitting the ground very hard. 

“Shit, you alright?” Malfoy asks, causing Harry to wonder how the hell he hadn’t recognized his voice sooner. 

“Never better,” Harry says, coming out as barely more than a breath, before he’s pulling him down and reconnecting their lips. 

The new position means that the full length of Malfoy’s body is pressed up against his, bringing him a strange sense of comfort and wholeness. One of Harry’s hands moves down to Malfoy’s hip, absently tracing little patterns up and down his hipbone. His heart hammers when Malfoy starts softly kissing his way down to his neck. He lets out a shuddering breath when he takes some of the sensitive skin between his teeth, tugging gently before soothing it with his tongue. 

He switches between kissing, licking, and biting, until Harry is sure there’s going to be a mark there. The knowledge makes him feel oddly giddy. He almost makes a joke about him secretly being a vampire. But then Malfoy kisses back up the side of his neck, finding an especially sensitive spot behind his ear, and Harry finds himself breathless and almost painfully aroused. 

“Please,” Harry sighs, not entirely sure what he’s asking for. 

“Anything,” Malfoy murmurs back, stroking a hand through his hair then caressing his cheek tenderly. 

Harry is caught off guard by the amount of care and tenderness Malfoy has displayed tonight, so at odds with his usual sneering arrogant self. The thought makes his chest ache for this boy; to find out what Draco is like, not Malfoy. Because this side of him, this soft, gentle, loving side, that’s not Malfoy, that’s Draco. The real Draco. Beneath all those masks, behind every sneer and smug smirk, is a boy who is yearning for love and closeness. To love and be loved unconditionally just like anyone else. 

Malfoy–no Draco, shifts ever so slightly but it’s enough that their clothed cocks graze against each other. He can hear Draco’s breath hitch above him as he lets out a soft moan of his own. 

“Gods, please,” Harry finds himself almost begging, unable to stop the words from tumbling out. 

“I’ll do anything,” Draco says, his hot breath brushing against Harry’s ear before he gently bites the lobe causing him to shudder from pleasure. “Just tell me what you want me to do.” Harry’s hips jerk up unbidden, seeking out more of that delicious friction he craves. 

If Harry thought that felt amazing, nothing compared to the next thrust of his hips which Draco meets this time as he continues to kiss and bite along Harry’s other ear. The double stimulation effectively turns Harry’s brain to mush, enough so that he doesn’t realize when he lets a small sigh of “Draco…” escape his lips until he feels him go completely still on top of him. 

Draco lets out a shaky breath before asking quietly, “How did you find out?” The vulnerability in his voice wrenches at Harry’s heart. 

“Butterbeer.” Is his simple reply. “Also no one else has hair that silky and cheekbones that sharp.” He adds with an awkward laugh. 

“But if you knew then why did you–“

“Because maybe you’re not the only one who’s been pining after an oblivious idiot,” Harry says with a light laugh, pulling his head back down so that their foreheads touch.

“You don’t mean that. Y-you can’t! You’re lying!“ Draco says, sounding hurt and trying to pull away. 

“I’m not-“

“This is all just some kind of cruel joke to humiliate me, is that it?” 

“Malfoy, no, that’s not–“

“Lets make his life even more miserable! It’s what scum like him deserves after all, isn’t it?”

“Draco, listen to me!” Harry nearly shouts, tightening his grip and effectively shutting him up. “I–I really like you, okay?” Harry’s heart pounds almost painfully. “I’m not lying, I promise, I could never hurt you like that.” He reaches out a hand to cup his cheek which he initially flinches away from, but when Harry tries again he lets him. 

“But I–“ Draco’s voice cracks and Harry immediately sits up, concern growing. “You deserve so much better than me,” He says, his voice wavering. 

Harry feels like his heart has been wrenched out of his chest when he feels a tear trickle down the hand still holding Draco’s face gently. “Take the blindfold off,” Harry demands. “Now!”

Draco hesitates before steeling himself and reaching around to undo the magical knot. He is momentarily taken aback by just how green his eyes are this close and without his glasses. Harry’s eyes finally adjust to the lighting, although still blurry due to his lack of glasses, and he is met by vulnerable yet piercing grey eyes. His throat closes up as he sees another tear cascade down his cheek. Draco angrily goes to brush it away but Harry beats him to it, bringing his other hand up to carefully wipe it off. 

Harry pins him with his gaze, determined and unwavering. “Never, and I mean never say something like that about yourself ever again, Draco.” His eyes widen and another tear makes its way down his cheek. “You deserve happiness and love just like anyone else. Don’t even think for one second that you don’t.”

“How can you say that? You know what I’ve done, how awfully I’ve treated you,” He says quietly. 

“Yes, I do, but I also know what you didn’t do,” Harry murmurs. “You didn’t want to be a Death Eater, you didn’t kill Dumbledore in the end, you didn’t turn me in to Bellatrix, you even stopped your friends from attacking me in the Room of Requirement.”

“That doesn’t excuse the fact that I still become one! I’ve tortured people Harry. I’ve had to watch as they beg me for mercy, knowing if I stopped he’d kill them or me.” He roughly pulls back his sleeve revealing the ugly faded mark. “A couple selfish good deeds doesn’t erase this. It doesn’t erase a life of prejudice.”

Harry grabs his wrist and hold his arm up between them. “This doesn’t define you. It’s a part of your past just as much as my scar from Voldemort. Both proof of how we were forced into a predetermined path set out for us in which we had no say or choice.” Harry places a hand on Draco’s chest, his breath catching as his fingers run along the sectum sempra scars he knows are still there after catching a glimpse of them in the Quidditch locker rooms. “We both made mistakes. Everyone did. We were children caught up in a mess so much bigger than us. In a war.”

“Yes, and I picked the wrong side.”

“You did what you had to, to protect the people you love.”

“And yet you still died.” He says with a hollow laugh. 

“But I’m here now, right?” Harry says after the admission sinks in. “And I’ll be here for you as long as you’ll have me,” He says, threading his fingers through Draco’s and squeezing. Draco stares down at their joined hands as if he can’t comprehend it, and perhaps he can’t. He rubs his thumbs against Harry’s hands, taking a deep breath and feeling the most calm and grounded he has in years. 

He cracks a wry smile. “Is that your way of asking me out?” 

“Oh– er– sure? I guess?” Harry stutters out having been rather caught off guard by the question. 

“It’s not going to be easy, you know.”

“I know. We’ll probably argue over petty things constantly.”

“We’ll both be stubborn, insufferable arseholes all the time.”

“You’ll hate how messy I am.”

“And you’ll hate how tidy I am.”

Harry brushes a hair out of Draco’s face and tilts his head back up so he can look him in the eyes. “But it’ll be worth every second I get to call you mine and I yours, right?” He says, gently bringing their mouths back together in a tender kiss. Harry can feel Draco smile and finds himself mirroring it, pulling back and taking in the beautiful boy in front of him. He can’t recall a time he’s ever seen him with such a wide genuine smile gracing his features. It makes him look younger almost, softening the usually harsh edges of his face. 

“Absolutely,” Draco says, squeezing Harry’s hand back. And then he’s pulling him back in and kissing him so sweetly Harry’s heart melts a little bit more. 

Then they hear a loud knock at the closet door followed by Pansy’s voice saying “Times up lovebirds!” Harry jumps so bad he ends up biting Draco’s lip who tries to look annoyed before snorting and bursting into a fit of giggles. 

“Shit, sorry!”

“I’ve changed my mind,” Draco says schooling his features though his eyes show a mix of exasperated fondness. 

“Arse,” Harry grumbles, flicking him on the cheek. 

“Hey, you’re the one who bit me! That’s not a very nice thing to do to your new boyfriend you know,” He says with a smirk, untangling himself from Harry and standing up. A dopey grin spreads across Harry’s face at being called his boyfriend. “Most people at least wait until after the first date.”

“Well, I guess that makes you a bit of a hypocrite then doesn’t it,” Harry says, feeling along the blooming love bites scattered across his neck. 

Draco’s face flushes a brilliant shade of pink when he realizes what he’s referring to, as if just now remembering that, only a few minutes ago, they had been quite furiously snogging on the floor of a closet. “Oh sod off,” He says, holding out a hand to help Harry up. “I didn’t hear you complaining.”

Harry’s face flushes as he realizes he can’t exactly argue with that since it’s completely true. Looking up, he can’t help the image of the two of them on the train that flashes through his head, Draco’s hand held out expectantly. Though this time he’s missing the haughty look and the air of superiority, replaced instead by an exasperated smile. A fondness in his eyes that catches him completely off guard. He briefly wonders whether the same thought is going through Draco’s head. He reaches up and grasps his hand without hesitation this time, pulling himself up to stand next to him. 

“Unless you want me to come in there and drag your arses out myself I suggest you hurry it up!” Pansy yells through the closed door, knocking a few more times. 

Draco snorts. “We’re coming, Merlin’s sake.”

“Gods, save it for the bedroom!” She says, sounding scandalized. “I’d really rather not have that mental image in my head, thank you very much. Just the thought of you two snogging is nightmare material enough.”

They look at each other with a mutual snort of laughter. “Perhaps you should just pretend we’re fighting then, love.” Draco says with a laugh. Pansy makes a retching sound before groaning that she doesn’t want to hear about the kind of kinky shit they get up to. 

“I mean with your slightly swollen lip and my bruises it wouldn’t be too hard,” Harry says to Draco with a snort. 

“I’ll have you know that still hurts,” Draco says to Harry with a sniff. “You’re lucky it’s not bleeding or I might not forgive you.”

Harry laughs then pulls him towards himself, winding his arms around his neck and leaning it. “Perhaps I should try kissing it better then?” He says quietly. 

“I’m not sure how that’s going to h–“

“Oh shut up,” Harry says before pulling him down that small, slightly infuriating distance and claiming his lips once again. Draco responds by sighing and wrapping his arms around Harry’s waist, pulling him even closer. Harry soothes the irritated lip with his tongue, drawing a quiet gasp from Draco. Both rather breathless as they pull apart slightly, they can’t help but smile at each other again. 

“Will you go to Hogsmeade with me tomorrow?” Draco suddenly blurts out, face coloring once again. 

“I thought you’d never ask,” Harry says playfully. “Of course I will.”

“Brilliant,” Draco says, kissing him quickly then moving towards the door. “I’ll pick you up say…ten tomorrow morning outside of Gryffindor tower?”

“I’ll be there,” Harry says, stomach flip-flopping at the excited smile on Draco’s face. 

They leave the closet together, faces flushed. 

“Finally coming out of the closet then, you two?” Blaise says with a smirk just as Pansy says “Merlin, Draco, what did you do, maul his neck?” whilst eyeing the obvious love bites in amusement. 

“Oh fuck off,” Draco grumbles, his face burning and with no real bite to it. 

“You’re just in time actually! Longbottom here was just about to show me what a real lap dance looks like, isn’t that right?” He says with a shit-eating grin. “And with a name like that he must be good.”

“I had honestly hoped you had forgotten about that.” Neville replies sheepishly. 

Harry laughs as he makes his way back to the vague circle the others are sitting in, Draco close behind. They find a space on one of the squishy couches and sit down, thighs and arms touching. And as he is sucked back into the ridiculous game of Truth or Dare (After the hat had chosen its next victims, Ginny and Blaise, who had both been quite shocked to say the least) Harry finds himself threading his hand through Draco’s, giving his hand a light squeeze which he returns. 

Okay, scratch what he said earlier. Harry has never been more thankful for certain meddling Slytherins. Though from the way Hermione and Ron smile knowingly at him after giving him back his glasses, and the way Hermione casts a smirk towards Pansy which is returned, he can’t help wondering if they could have somehow been behind it as well. 

Regardless. 

It might not have been under the most normal circumstances that they finally got together, but when has anything between the two of them ever been normal?

Harry glances over at the boy he can finally call his boyfriend just as Draco himself glances at Harry. 

They both smile. 

And somehow, Harry knows that they’re going to be okay.


End file.
